Memories of Fire
by Melanyholland
Summary: Chuck had tried so hard to forget Blair, but finding himself alone with her, he realized that the butterflies were still there.


**Title: **Memories of Fire

**Author:** Melanyholland

**Summary**: Chuck had tried so hard to forget Blair, but finding himself alone with her, he realized that the butterflies were still there.

**Rating:** T

**Timeline:** after episode 1x17 (Woman on the Verge)

**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair

**Feedback:** really appreciated, thanks.^^

**Note:** as usual, this is a translation of one of my Italian stories. I'm sorry if there are some mistakes, feel free to tell me if you find them.

**Memories of Fire**

When he found himself again alone with Blair after a long time, Chuck felt a familiar flutter in his stomach which was neither totally unexpected nor completely unwanted. She had said it was butterflies, he called it his most dangerous vice.

And Chuck had always starved for vice and perdition.

Blair was walking in front of him to enter her room, offering him the delicious view of her smooth back bared by her dress. Chuck caught sight of the freckle he had kissed many times and licked his lips, almost expecting to find the taste of Blair's skin on his mouth. He didn't, but he didn't need that to remember it. He remembered _everything _about her.

The brutality of her rejection too, obviously. The angry and spiteful words had hit him where he had never allowed anybody to touch him. With her, _for_ her, Chuck had been different. In exchange for it, Blair had used him to warm her bed while she waited for Nate's return. She had despised everything they had without a second thought.

Knowing that she had hurt his _pride_ –because he knew how to handle those wounds, how to heal them- Chuck had punished her and he had been extremely cruel. Destroying Blair hadn't pleased him at all, but it had to be done, definitely. Getting even was essential in their world.

That was exactly why Chuck was in Blair's room instead of his, writing the best man speech for Bart's wedding. He would enjoy the annihilation of Georgina Sparks and he was happy to have a role in it.

Blair was taking off her uncomfortable high heels and Chuck noticed that her movements were stiff. Probably she was trying to look relaxed, but she had never been able to fool him. He knows her so well.

"Do you already have an idea?" she asked him suddenly, perhaps to get rid of his insistent gaze.

Chuck shook his head. He actually had a couple of ideas, but he wouldn't reveal them so quickly. Blair took off her pearl necklace and he remembered the way the pearls had brushed her breasts the first time he had seen her naked. For a while, they had been the only thing on her.

"Disappointing, Bass." She snorted, looking more spontaneous. Chuck realized that insulting him made her at ease and he went on with their usual exchanges:

"Your strip-tease makes me difficult to focus, Waldorf." He impudently commented, his gaze travelling up and down her body. "But perhaps you're doing it on purpose."

Blair was taking off her white headband and stopped at his words, her cheeks red. She rolled her eyes and when she spoke again, there was no sign of tension in her voice:

"Stop it. We must think of Serena."

"Dirty. I like it."

"Chuck!".

Now the mood was totally relaxed. Chuck himself felt comfortable talking with her in that way. It was cosy and familiar and he felt relieved because it was so _easy_, but he wasn't surprised.

On the contrary, he had been that morning, seeing Blair's number on the display of his phone. She, so proud, so stubborn, had decided to call him after the humiliation he had inflicted on her. Chuck had immediately thought that something really bad had happened if she had been forced to such a disturbing gesture, but when he had answered, he had been cold and ironic, because he was still Chuck Bass and she the woman who had dared to wrong him.

"Are you drunk dialling again?"

"Chuck," she had said and hearing his name on her lips had been disarming, actually too much for his pride's sake. It had been like coming back to the days when she called him every time she needed a partner for a plan, or simply _help_. Chuck hadn't lied to Nate afterwards: he really had felt nostalgic.

"Is Serena with you?".

Chuck had said no, thinking that he should have expected something like this. Obviously the one in trouble was their problematic, blonde friend. Blair would sacrifice herself only for her. Once he had meanly mocked Blair saying she was Serena's faithful lap dog, but honestly, if there was something he understood, it was loyalty.

To his new sister, for instance.

"I've been looking for her everywhere!" Blair had said, agitated. "Chuck," –feeling the twitch in his stomach, Chuck had wondered whether the bitch knew the effect she had on him whenever she called his name and whether it was why she did it constantly- "I think she's in trouble. I think we should…" there had been a hesitant pause, and he had understood why when she had spoken again:

"Come to my home."

Firm, almost commanding tone, but Chuck had been able to catch the uncertainty behind her words. Blair had been afraid of a refusal, even thought she would never admit it. _I don't want you anymore_ had been the weapon Chuck had used against her and oh, how much it had hurt her. Blair had never been hesitant before.

He hadn't answered, simply hanging up.

But he had gone, obviously. Starting the process which had leaded him in the room belonging to the girl who had caused him so many problems and who was now staring at him with that slightly annoyed frown he found irresistible.

Chuck reached her bed and sit on it, unbuttoning his jacket and then taking off it. While he was untieing his bowtie, he realized that it seemed they were undressing to have sex. Of course the rhythm was too slow for their habits -one of the things which had so much surprised and then thrilled him about Blair was the fiery passion with which she grabbed him when she wanted sex- , but they still gave that impression. Blair must have thought the same thing because after a moment, she asked him:

"Do you need a chair?"

"I'm fine, thanks".

Blair hesitated for a second and then reached the bed, sitting on the opposite edge, so there were inches and inches of silk and goose down pillows between them. Chuck remembered his enthusiasm the time he had pushed her on that bed and her liveliness while she had fallen on her back, laughing and bouncing on the mattress. Watching her, Chuck had been again astonished by her beauty and instead of reaching her, he had stopped to admire the way her eyes sparkled with malicious amusement and her lips curved with inpatient delight. Chuck had never seen her so blithely cheerful and thinking he was the reason of her happiness had made him feel something in his chest. After all, Chuck had never made someone happy in his entire life and he had never cared about it. If he wasn't, why should it be different for the others? But when it came to Blair things changed, because a happy Blair was a view he himself enjoyed.

In that moment, she had been lying down on her bed with the edges of her unbuttoned blouse brushing her breasts and her skirt lifted on her thighs, showing the hem of her panties and the hooks of her stockings and Chuck, who had been looking at her captivated, had thought she was an image of pure perfection. She fascinated and aroused him like none else. He was hungry of Blair and there was no way to extinguish or simply placate his hunger because more he had, more he wanted.

Blair had stretched out her arms in a silent invitation for him to join her and Chuck had obviously accepted it, because satisfying Blair had apparently been the aim of his life those days. Not that he had complained. It had been literally _his_ _pleasure_.

They had spent that afternoon in bed and he had taken her repeatedly, enjoying Blair in all her glowing glory. Even with her skin slick of sweat, her hair damp, her make-up ruined and her lips swollen and reddened, Blair was hotter than a haute-couture model ready for a photo session. Seeing her shaking for his thrusts made him grit his teeth to hold back the orgasm and there were also the sounds she made, her needy moans, her pleased whining, her frantic groans, her soft purrs which seemed so much the ones a kitten would made, which drove him crazy until all he could utter was Blair, Blair, Blair.

Now Chuck was remembering every moment, every word of that amazing afternoon, even the ruby she had worn on her right ring-finger. They were memories he had tried to erase after he had cruelly rejected her in that bar, but no woman, even the most skilful and attractive, had been able to make him forget the ecstatic sensation of Blair's warm body around him, her smooth, needy thighs hooked around his hips and her polished nails scratching desperately his back.

"We could film her in a compromising position." Blair suggested, interrupting his delicious reverie.

"You mean more compromising than her and Serena enjoying coke and sex and ending up with an overdose?" he scoffed. Blair looked at him, irritated and offended.

"At least I came up with something, Bass. The only good idea you've had this night is wearing finally a decent coloured suit."

Chuck glanced at the dark suit he had worn for the dinner and grimaced. Bart had been categorical on that point: at the dinner and at the wedding, every chromatic hazard of his best man would be severely blamed.

Chuck was about to answer back with something as unkind as her comment when he had an idea and, predictably, it was brilliant. Misinterpreting his silence as a defeat, Blair flashed him a jubilant and triumphant smirk and Chuck couldn't decide whether he found it annoying or attractive.

"I know how to destroy her." He announced smugly, with a smirk of his own.

"Really?".

Chuck was sure about the cruel sparkling in Blair's eyes: it definitely aroused him.

"Think about it, Waldorf. There's only one thing that can scare Georgina."

"A crucifix?" she joked, but her eyes were elsewhere. Chuck watched her frowning her thin eyebrows, thinking hard to find an answer, because, like she knew, his wasn't a simple urging but a challenge. Their relationship had always been a game of skills with only their pride at stake. That was what had always made Blair different in his eyes from the other women, who soon bored him.

"Well, two, actually." He corrected himself, indulging in a small help. He knew she would get it, she was a smart girl. Indeed, after a moment her forehead smoothened, her eyes lit up and her lips disclosed to whisper:

"Her parents. Of course".

They both smiled to each other for an instant of victorious complicity forgetful of their past fights, but it didn't last. Blair averted her gaze and started stroking distractedly the skirt on her thighs.

"It will be easy to play them against Georgina." She said, coldly. "I met them during a cocktail party once. They don't say it out loud, but they're likely to welcome every opportunity to get rid of the demon they had unfortunately conceived."

"And you're so good when you play the role of the nice girl worried for her friend's well-being." Chuck suggested with a nasty smirk, remembering how much glorious Blair had been announcing to the Ivy league Serena's problems with drugs and alcohol.

Blair looked at him again, allowing herself a pleased smile and him the chance of seeing it.

"True. And my dear friend G. really needs help, now." She sighed, shaking her head. "Our world is full of temptations. I truly believe that the best for her is going far away from New York. She'll have time to think about her mistakes, to became again the lovely young woman we all adore".

Chuck was impressed by her sweet, concerned tone and by her bothered attitude. He had been wrong: she wasn't good, she was _amazing_. After all, that was the girl who had always fooled the cynical Upper East Side with her angelic features and her elegant manners. Chuck was one of the few people who knew her true nature and it had always fascinated him. The wickedness behind the purity, cruel intentions hidden by the sweetest smile. Blair was the most alluring of contradictions.

"And no place is like house of correction for all this." He commented, merciless, and Blair's eyes were again amused and malicious, every hint of kindness disappeared.

"Yes. I'll make sure they choose the worst on earth." She promised, then yawned. When she stretched her arms, the fabric of her dress wrinkled on the small bulges of her tits.

"The problem is: I don't know where I can find Mr and Mrs Sparks." She added, and Chuck quickly looked up at her face again, so she didn't notice the previous direction of his gaze. "Do you think they still live here?"

"There's only one way to find out".

Chuck phoned his P.I. and, after hearing his requests, Mike assured him that he would send a text with every address of Georgina's parents in a couple of hours. Blair's eyes had been on him during the entire call and when he told her the details, she snorted and dropped herself on the bedspread, lying down on her hip.

"We have to wait _two hours_?" she complained, indignantly. "It's already late and if I don't get my beauty sleep, tomorrow on the wedding's photos I'll look like Uncle Fester."

"I'm sure that the joy for having destroyed the psycho-bitch will give back to your face all its natural gorgeousness." He said charmingly. Blair rolled her eyes, but Chuck thought that her irritation was honest only for the twenty percent. Her cheeks were blushed ant it wasn't just the make-up.

After a moment of hesitation, Chuck lay down with nonchalance next to her, so that their faces were a few inches from each other. Predictably, Blair lifted herself, resting her weight on her elbow. She glared at him:

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Relax, princess. I'm just tired." He murmured casually and he was honest. Staying so close to Blair to being able to smell her perfume and feel her warmth was just a wonderful perk. But, being Chuck Bass, he had to add: "You know, women begged me all the time to have the privilege of spending the night with me, after we're done."

"Maybe because they want to kill you while you're sleeping." She answered back, caustic. Chuck smirked, winking at her.

"However, sleeping with one girl in particular has always been really pleasurable".

Her incredulous snort came with a considerable delay and Chuck gloated internally. It seemed that after all dear Blair was not completely immune to the charm of their memories… or to _his_.

But since Blair was also an annoying bitch and she would never admit that the idea of staying so close to him was enticing and arousing for her as much as it was for him, she grabbed a big pillow and tossed it on the floor.

"You can stay on the floor, while we're waiting."

"What?" he reacted, outraged. He was Chuck Bass. The rich and privileged Basses of this world did not rest on the floor, especially when nearby there was a comfortable bed with valuable silk sheets and a beautiful, almost undressed woman on it. It was ridiculous, it didn't make any sense.

"Don't be such a brat, two hours won't kill you. Unfortunately." She added, after a second.

"I won't stay on the floor, Waldorf." He hissed, categorical.

"Then I'll scream".

When Chuck lifted his eyebrows in an indifferent _go ahead_, Blair glanced at him with a devilish grin: "Dorota will come immediately and when she find you in my room, at night, slightly undressed, all your money won't save you from her wrath".

Chuck watched the despotic beauty in front of him with an angry and resentful look. He really didn't want to face Blair's Polish maid -who, he had to admit, became quite scary when she had to save her protégé-, so he snorted and moved on the floor. Blair glanced at him with a cold, satisfied gleam in her eyes before she dropped herself again on the bed and he grimaced: it was even more painful than he thought, damn Blair.

They were quiet for a while. Chuck's back, used to rest on things much softer, immediately started torturing him with a sharp pain and he remembered with irony that he had thought to like the sadistic side of the Queen B. Now, he almost wished that she really was the sweet and nice girl her big doe eyes suggested she was.

When Blair spoke again to insult Georgina a little more, she did it in a feeble and tired whisper and Chuck realized she was drifting off to sleep.

In the past Blair had fallen asleep next to him sometimes, because she was feeling particularly tender or because she was too tired to leave or made him leave after sex. Chuck loved making her tired teaching her new positions and lavishing his attentions on her, but he didn't mind lying down next to her and watching her sleeping, neither. He found it _comforting_. Which was another peculiarity of his relationship with Blair, because like he had said, he didn't let all his conquests sleep with him and even when it happened, it was because Chuck was too drunk or high to care or because the woman had been extremely skilful and he wanted to repeat the experience after some hours of rest.

It had been during one of those times, while he was gazing at Blair's peaceful face, her breasts going up and down under the sheets following the slow, regular rhythm of her breathing, that Chuck had realized he would be able to watch her for hours without getting tired. Then he had snorted, because he had started thinking like Dan Humphrey, and he had woken her with a hungry kiss to have another round of sex, so he could prove himself he was till him, nothing had changed.

Now Chuck stood up and sit delicately on her bed again. Blair was still on her side, her knees up in front of her belly, her eyes closed and her hair spread on the pillow. Chuck smiled, realising she had actually fallen asleep. Careful not to wake her, he lay down next to her delicious body. They didn't need to wait, really. Mike would send the text with the information he had requested and he would forward it to Blair as soon as possible -that is: in the morning-. After all, he paid someone else to do the work exactly because in this way, Chuck could use his time to do what he pleased, instead of what he had to. Chuck was more than happy to leave everything to Mike, because with Blair so close, the memories which had tormented him in the past weeks returned stronger, fuelled by the sweet scent of her skin mixed with _Chanel N.5_ and by the warmth of her breathing, let out by her soft, disclosed lips.

Chuck had tried hard, but he simply couldn't forget her. Butterflies couldn't be murdered.

His smile became triumphant when Blair mewled softly and cuddled up against him in her sleep. So her body was not willing to hide its true desires like its owner, he thought gleefully. Chuck tried to restrain _his_ desires, but then Blair's bare leg was on his thigh and there was still that rhythmic, warm blow which brushed his lips and damn it, Chuck had never said he was a saint, on the contrary, he had done anything in his life to prove he was the exact opposite. So, he did something he knew it wasn't right, breaking the rules and taking a risk: he put his arm around her and brushed her lips with a light kiss. Then he licked his, feeling satisfied because he had found it.

Finally, Blair's taste was on his mouth.

**End**

**Author's Notes: **

[1] "Memories of Ice" is the third book of the fantasy saga written by Steven Erikson.

[2] Thank you so so much my wonderful reviewers. I'm really grateful for all your kind words, really, you're very nice. So, thanks to **ronan03,** **Janice93, akasha-is-cool, awakeningezgi, HnM skinnys, itsolgatime, A Pretty Reckless Girl, TriGemini, LetMeIn1812, abelard, ChairLoveK, the goodgossipgirl **for your amazing reviews to "Breakfast at Blair's". I'm glad you've liked my story. **LetMeIn1812, **thank you also for your words on "Waldorf Talking Dirty" and "Butterflies and Hurricanes".


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